Alice and the Human Sacrifice
by DylantheRabbit
Summary: Albus Dumbledore, ambassador to the Magical United States has gone missing and 'Queen' Alice Black is heading off across the pond to rescue her weird old friend meeting some interesting new people on the way. Gotham City isn't going to know what hit it. Lots of sex, violence and femslash. PERMANENT HIATUS. Up for adoption. See ch 4.
1. Chapter 1

**Welcome to the second in the Alice Black, Queen of Wizarding Britain series of stories.**

 **Alice is one of those characters that I just can't seem to stop writing. She is a psychopathic, sociopathic and utterly insane murderer with very few redeeming qualities but she is an enormous amount of fun to write. Playing around with Alice is always a nice respite from other fics that sometimes bog down and require actual work to keep them going. This is just me letting my odd mind go nuts and relax.**

 **This may not be great literature but it will be bloody good fun.**

 **Oh and a quick word of warning, there will be sex, violence and a great deal of blood in this one as well as lots and lots of femslash. If you're offended by that kind of thing then this story is probably not for you.**

 **Clearly I don't own either Harry Potter or DC comics as I'm writing this in cold, rainy England and not sat on my own private beach in Thailand.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**

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 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice.**

 **Prologue.**

 **Private Family Reception Room, Windsor Castle. 21st June 1999. 11.00 a.m**

Tea duty. Hestia Jones thought that most people imagined the frequent tea parties held between the Black Queen of wizarding Britain and her muggle equivalent were unutterably dull and dreary affairs. They would never believe just how wrong they were. This was one of the most fun and entertaining assignments that she and her partner Emmeline Vance had as Alice Black's honour guards. The two aristocratic women were actually incredibly alike in private and these get togethers could become more than a little _raucous_ in nature.

It was quite a strange dynamic that existed between Queen Alice Black and Queen Elizabeth the second. At first their relationship had been all business. The muggle sovereign had helped clean up Alice's less than stellar criminal record in her world and in return Alice had helped out with a particularly vicious gang of people traffickers who had been targeting the aristocracy. As time went on, however, they found themselves enjoying each other's company and revelling in chance to act like two normal people just having a nice time. Elizabeth hadn't had this much fun since the war when she had got to play with all those lovely, lonely WAAF girls. If people thought that the GIs gave out good presents for sexual favours they would have been horrified to know the things she had given away for a single night of lust. There were still a couple of paste copies of some of the smaller of the nations Crown jewels tucked away in the Tower of London somewhere.

The Black Queen Alicia Morgana Black, or Alice, as she liked to be called was an utter delight and a real breath of fresh air and they had become firm friends, despite the age gap. Elizabeth felt like just another girl again around the insane, irreverent and disrespectful young lunatic and she was prepared to love and protect her fellow Queen just for that reason alone. Also she had the best stories.

Elizabeth Alexandra Mary Windsor, Queen of the United Kingdom, Canada, Australia and New Zealand, and Head of the Commonwealth was giggling and snorting at the highly scandalous but highly amusing story that she was relating to her guest. She knew that she shouldn't but this stunningly beautiful, raven haired young woman with the strange eyes and the interesting dress sense was just _too_ amusing. Elizabeth would swear that the girl made a game out of trying to elicit such an indiscretion from her. Just as she seemed to do every time they met. Which was quite often. Although she thought that Alice's tales of her own multifarious indiscretions were far more outrageous than hers.

"Lizzie, you didn't."

"I most certainly did. Seeing him coming out of the ocean all wet and glistening in those tight, tight shorts was just too much of a temptation. I wanted him so I damned well had him. I am the Queen you know, Alice."

"And?"

"Fab-u-lous. Hung like a bloody horse, I was sore for days afterwards."

"Did he ask you to 'Shuck his co-ock your majeshty'."

"Why yesh. I believe he did ma'am."

The Rulers of magical and mundane Britain hooted and cackled at each other's piss poor (or should that be pish poor) impersonations of a young Sean Connery. Who the surprisingly dirty Lizzie had apparently fucked six ways to Sunday in Jamaica one memorable summer in 1962. Their respective bodyguards tried not to wince or smirk at the pair as they wiped at the tears that their hilarity had caused.

"Oh Lizzie, I do so enjoy our little get togethers. Even if you are an old pervert."

"Ah yes, I'm rather fond of them myself Alice. By the way, how _is_ dear Harriet."

Alice choked slightly on her tea. The older woman had such a subtly, wickedly and dangerously polite way of pointing out her hypocrisy. When the subject of perversion was on the table, Alice would always lose the argument. Message received and understood, loud and clear.

There was a small pop as her new Chief house elf appeared and a scramble of activity resulting in two wands and two firearms being pointed at the rather stupid looking bat eared individual. Kreacher had finally shuffled off his mortal coil three months ago at the grand old age of two hundred and ten and had requested that his protege, Dopey, be given the honour of succeeding him. It was at this point that everybody had realised that the old elf was just as insane as his beloved mistress. The fact that Alice had accepted this bequeathed appointment without even the merest hint of a pause surprised nobody. They all knew she was nuts.

"Sorry to interrupt, your Blackness."

"Hello Dopey dear, you know you really should stop doing that, it makes them very nervous."

He gazed vacantly at the scowling people holding weapons pointed at his head and nodded his head as if in deep thought. He wasn't of course but Miss Alice always seemed to appreciate it when he at least tried to look slightly more intelligent than a pickled cabbage. She really was the best mistress an elf could wish for. Now. He had come here for a reason. What was it? Laundry? No. Shopping? No. Oh yes.

"Mummy Black's butch missus wants to smash on your breasticles Miss Alice."

She took a moment to decipher the 'Dopey speak'.

"Amelia wants to see me. Do you know why?"

"She didn't say your Blackness, just that she wanted to come on you."

Alice sighed, disappointed that her fun vist with Lizzie would be cut short today for some, doubtless, dull and pointless politcal fidgy widgyness with the moron sheep, monkeys of the Wizangamot. Still if Bonesy couldn't take care of it herself that might mean that some physical persuasion may be required. That thought perked her up a bit.

"Right ho then. Lizzie, I'm sorry to cut this short today but it seems that something has come up that requires my _special_ attention."

"Thats alright Alice dear. Have fun and do try not to kill anyone where any of my lot can see."

"My place next time. Bye Liz."

The magical contingent apparated away leaving the muggle Queen chuckling into her teacup at her friend's total lack of decorum and disregard for the formalities of the Court. That Alice really was bloody good fun.

 **Ministry of magic, London. 22nd June 1999.**

The 'eyes only' report that had crossed the Minister's desk this morning was troubling Amelia Bones to a great extent. It seemed that no-one had seen their ambassador to the magical Unted States of America for nearly a week. She hadn't received the report until now because it wasn't uncommon for the silly old fool to wander off. Normally he would be back in a couple of days with a hangover, possibly a new tattoo and sometimes a muscular young man in tow. This time he had been gone a week and people were starting to get concerned. Albus Dumbledore was missing. And in the worst place possible in the entire contient of America.

"Good afternoon, Minister."

"Good afternoon, your Majesty."

The formalities out of the way the two women got down to business in their more usual style.

"So. What's up Bonesy?"

"There's a problem with Albus."

"For fucks sake. What's the beardy old weirdo done now? He hasn't deflowered another senator's first born son has he?"

"Not this time no. It looks like the old fool's been kidnapped."

The Minister of Magic watched the Black Queen's shoulders sag as she face palmed herself. She was aware that Alice had a bit of a soft spot for the old man, despite the fact that he had tried to kill Harry Potter, or Harriet Potter consort to the Royal House of Black as she now was, but that didn't make him any less of a liability. In fact Albus was not above using his relationship with her to make certain difficulties, that his proclivities for sweet, good looking young men to warm his bed, made disappear with the mere mention of her name. This time, however, the old man had gotten in over his head. He was probably relying on Alice to come swooping in and save the day like some sort of magical superhero. Unfortunately this time even the dreaded Black Queen might struggle. This time even she might be in over her head due to where he was when he was abducted.

The daft old bugger had got himself kidnapped in the underworld stronghold and armpit of America. The one and only Gotham City.

 **The Throne Room, Black Manor, Suffolk. 24th June 1999.**

The two imposing, gilded chairs had been placed specifically to cause anyone that approached in supplication or official business to gaze up at their occupants in the awe and respect that they commanded. Alice and Ginevra Black, Queens of their world surveyed the gathering of family and friends. Their unofficial war council. This included about half of the old SHAGS club members and the entire Black family. Including her new step mum. Amelia had finally made in honest woman out of Bellatrix last month. Well okay she had married her and Bella didn't fuck around quite so much now.

Surprisingly it was Alice's Aunt Narcissa, wo hadnever been out of the country before two years ago, that had the most detailed information about their target destination.

"You've been to Gotham?"

"Yes, Selly and I visited right after my ... transformation."

Cissy looked guiltily at her elder sister Andromeda, who was simply glaring at her. The subject of her turning had caused a rather large argument between the two and even after almost two years it seemed that she wasn't quite forgiven yet.

"So I take it that you and Selene going there to retrieve grandpa whiskers is not going to be an option."

"Ummm. We did make rather a mess so ... no ... probably not."

Alice smirked and winked at her blonde haired Aunt to show that she didn't really care while reaching down to scoop up the nearly two year old tearaway that had just come running into her throne room and collided with her leg. She held the little girl in her lap and the two regarded each other seriously before, to the child's delight, Alice cocked her head and grinned her most insane grin.

"Bap Bap."

"Well hello my little Lolly. Have you come to give us your wisdom and advice?"

Lola Tonks-Black grinned back at her mad Auntie Alice and said the only word currently in her vocabulary.

"Bap."

"Really little one. Do you think so?"

"Bap."

"Well alright then, I'll tell them, but they're not going to be happy about it, you know."

An out of breath Penelope Clearwater arrived in the large space in time to see her and Nym's unplanned but adored daughter chatting and giggling with Alice on her throne and smiled. Lolly always ran to find the Black Queen when she had done something bad, almost as if she knew that Alice would be far more likely to praise her for bad behaviour than to scold her for it. Watching the two 'conversing' now she thought how lucky she was to be a part of this amazing family. Alice's next statement wiped that smile right off her face. Along with almost everyone else's.

"My advisor and I have decided that I shall be the one who goes to get 'Albers the perv' out of whatever trouble that he's managed to find himself in." She leaned down to her 'niece' and asked conspiratorially. "That's right isn't it?"

"Bap."

"Quite so. There you have it."

Hermione Lovegood decided that it was time to put her oar into Alice's troubled waters, so to speak, and cleared her throat loudly. All argument, all protestation, all noise ceased instantly. The, considerably less bushy haired than she had once been, scarilly intelligent young witch was possibly the only person in the country who could manage to challenge a decision once Queen Alice had made it. She gave her old friend 'the look'.

"Alicia Morgana Black, you are this country's Queen. You have responsibilities, you cannot simply go swanning off to America on half arsed rescue missions for dirty old men who should know better."

The raven haired sovereign blinked her suddenly large, tearful, eyes and gave a pout, knowing exactly how cute it was and exactly how much it affected Hermione.

"But Mia, it's just a holiday. I haven't had any time off in ages and I'm _sooooo_ tired. You wouldn't deny me a holiday would you?"

Hermione, the strong willed lieutenant of the Black Tank Corps, buckled before Alice's onslaught of cuteness. Damn the woman she always bloody did this.

"Well I suppose if it was just a holiday it wouldn't be too bad."

"Exactly Mia, and it's not like I'll be going alone."

Fuck. She closed her eyes and shook her head, sighing.

"Let me guess. I'm coming too."

Alice and her small, cuddly companion giggled together as she nodded her agreement. She flicked her eyes to her wife to silently ask if it was okay and receiving a small smile from the ginger beauty to signal that, yes, she was okay with it, Alice began to make her plans. She, Mia, Hestia and Emmeline were going on trip to rescue a strange old man from the criminal element of Gotham City and woe betide anyone who got in their way. It was a bit of a relief really. Things were altogether too quiet in magical Britain right now and she hadn't gotten to kill anybody in simply _months_. She was beyond frustrated.

"Dopey dear, be a love and polish up my axe, would you. We're going on holday."

And the streets of Gotham would run red with the blood of her enemies.

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 **I know that you've read it before but I thought that it would be good to remind ourselves of what went on here before we go on. Chapter one proper will be up very soon.**

 **Reviews are like cuddles. You can never have enough of them.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**


	2. Chapter 2

**Welcome back my loyal and trusty Alice enthusiasts. After a much longer than anticipated lay off it's showtime at last for the Mad Black Queen and her new villainous friends. I hope that you're all as excited as I am.**

 **Righty ho then. Let's get going shall we.**

 **Clearly I don't own either Harry Potter or DC comics as I'm writing this in cold, rainy England and not sat on my own private beach in Thailand.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**

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 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice.**

 **Chapter 1. Coming to America.**

 **Arkham Asylum, Gotham City. 3rd July 1999. 02.00 a.m.**

The first thing he had noticed when he had awoken last week was how dark it was in this small, spartan room. The second thing was that he appeared to have been the recipient of a fairly severe physical beating and that he was mising all of his clothes and personal effects including, most concerningly, his wand. Not that he actually needed it to escape from, what was clearly some kind of muggle jail cell, being a bit of a wandless casting master but he had got rather attached to this new one since he was forced to buy it after Alice had taken the Deathstick from him.

Albus Dumbledore, former headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and current U.K ambassador to the Magical States of North America stroked his beard in an increasingly pointless attempt to untangle it. He didn't mind the cold, that's what wandless warming charms were for, or the terrible slop that passed for food, he had been getting rather chubby lately, no what he really missed was the human interraction. Albus loved people. He especially loved sweet, buff young men but that was perhaps a different, more visceral, kind of love. Which brought him to how he had ended up a prisoner here in this cell, wearing this fabulously well cut jump suit in a very pretty shade of orange.

He couldn't remember the precise details of how he had got here as he may have had one or two fruity, alcoholic drinks too many on the night that he was taken and it may have affected his ability to defend himself. The good looking young man who had been buying them for him all night had been so sweet and attentive to him though that Albus just couldn't believe that he was involved in the abduction. And therin lay the old man's problem. He was, in layman's terms, cock blind. A handsome, sculpted young adonis could take his money, his clothes, even his life from him and all he would think was how beautiful they were in that moment.

It was here where a great deal of his problems with Tom Riddle and his Death Eaters had come from. He knew in the back of his impressive mind that there were people in both the magical and muggle worlds who were irredeemably evil and yet, when faced with the reality of a hard bodied, chisel jawed lovely his hormones took over and he believed every single one of them capable of reform. Alice Black had no such issues with punishing those who had sinned. Although he knew that she had most likely done _far_ worse to the people who opposed her. Like poor Cornelius Fudge, a weak man who had chosen money over common sense and paid a terrible price for his corruptable soul. Alice had taken him apart piece by piece and laid him out in the middle of Diagon Alley for all to see. It still gave him nightmares if he was honest but this was the person that he was hoping to see more than any other right now.

She was a giggling, snorting, raging psychopath who had absolutely no self control whatsoever when it came to sex or slaughter and a weird obsession with rabbits but, paradoxically, that was what made her the perfect person to rescue him. Albus decided that he was just going to have to close his eyes when she butchered everyone who had been involved in his unlawful and sometimes painful incarceration. Alice had proven to be a great, if occasionally difficult, friend to him despite his own weakness in certain areas (and of course that business with the then 'boy-who-lived') and he was positive that she would not desert him now. Which made him feel a little sorry for his captors when she did turn up. Restraint wasn't a word that was in Alice Black's otherwise extensive vocabulary.

So yes, he could have simply used a wandless _alohomora_ and walked out of the door and he was more than powerful enough to deal with a few armed muggle guards but in the end the old man decided to wait for his monarch to come and get him, with all the blood-shed that that would entail. It wasn't the beatings that had caused this attitude shift but the fact that they had him sleeping on a goose feather mattress. Not the duck down that he was used to but _goose feather_. It was frankly inhuman to treat a person like this, especially one of his advanced age, and they all deserved to die a most horrible death, so he would wait for Alice. He was a hundred percent sure that she wouldn't disappoint him in that regard.

 **Royal Yacht Britannia, 30 Nautical miles off the Eastern Coast of the United States of America. 3rd July 1999. 11.30 a.m.**

The insanely beautiful young woman in the ridiculously short, white sailor suit gazed out from the bow spit of her borrowed yacht and tried very hard not to start dancing around in glee. She was the Queen of Magical Britain now and should at all times set an example of propriety and good behaviour and ... she gripped the guard rail and cackled maniacally to herself not even being able to complete the thought. Alice Black was watching the slowly growing coastline with eager anticipation thinking of just how much trouble she could manage to stir up there. They had lots and lots of bad people for her to kill and easy access to a fantastic variety of awesome weapons with which to dispose of them in some considerable style. God bless America.

On the few occasions that she had met them at international state functions and the like Alice had decided quite quickly that Americans were a lot of fun. Sometimes they got all overcome and tongue tied in the presence of even her warped version of royalty and sometimes their republican sensibilities got the better of them and made them stroppy and superior. And prideful.

Pride was her second favourite deadly sin (lust was top obviously). It made normally sensible people incredibly stupid, sometimes stupid enough to attack her, either verbally, magically or physically and that made her very happy. Alice _lived_ for vengence and violence. There was nothing that was quite as much fun as chopping up some random idiot who thought that she was a tyrant with her big, red fire-axe. She didn't let the fact that she technically _was_ a tyrant, terrifying and delighting her subjects in equal measure, spoil her fun to even the slightest degree.

"Come on Alice we'll be there in a couple of hours and I'm sure you don't want to meet all those nice people in that outfit."

Hermione Lovegood nee Granger wasn't sure of that at all as it happened. She had known her monarch long before the girl had bullied the Wizangamot into giving her the throne and was painfully aware of Alice's propensity for odd behaviour and it was just the kind of thing that she would do on a whim.

"I'm not going to change until you come and play Titanic with me Mia."

Hermione's shoulders dropped and she sighed in long suffering resignation. This was not the first time she had been coerced into the DiCaprio role on this trip. She knew it was a mistake taking Alice to see that bloody movie but she hadn't banked on it coming back to bite her in the arse quite this quickly. One look at the insanely excited gleam in her pouting friend's strange mis-matched eyes and she knew that she wasn't going to let this opportunity go by.

"Fine." She moved into position behind the raven haired lunatic only to be stopped in her tracks.

"No you have to be Kate, I'm going to be Leo this time."

Oh for fuck's sake. She could just see those sniggering bitches Emmeline and Hestia pointing and laughing at her out of the corner of her eye and was in the middle of coming up with some really nasty jobs for them as revenge for the mirth when Alice screamed into her ear.

"I'm the Queen of the World!"

Hermione didn't put it past her to make exactly that happen.

Two and a half hours later, dressed in a very regal looking black and purple dress with her hair up and tiara in place, Alice descended the gangplank and took her first step on American soil. The arrival of what looked like a foreign princess complete with an entourage of beautiful, if tough looking, young women did not go un-noticed by the dock workers and customs officials on North River Pier eighty eight. There was much standing and staring as the utterly gorgeous, raven haired 'princess' glided serenely to a waiting Central Park horse and carriage where she was met by a tall red headed man and a much shorter blonde woman who was almost wearing a rather skimpy dress.

"Your majesty, welcome to the United States of America."

"Hiya Bill, how's my favourite brother in law?" Alice let her eyes roam over the little blonde with the fantastic tits that she was very generously sharing with the world today in her low cut top. "And more importantly who ... is ... this?"

"Ah Yes, Alice this is my wife Candi Weasley. Candi, this is her majesty Queen Alice Black."

As the young woman courtesied to her Alice stared down her top and thought that she looked very familiar. Then it hit her.

"Oh I know who you are now, you're that stripper from my stag do, the one who did that thing with the ping pong balls. Do you remember Mia she hit you with one right in the ... "

Seeing the crowd that they were starting to attract and not wanting Alice to embarrass the Weasleys any more she 'accidentally' tripped and bundled the manically chattering queen into the carriage, managing to somehow end up prostrated in her lap. This didn't exactly shut the damned woman up as she had hoped but did at least make her switch targets to her old lieutenant.

"Oooh Mia I never knew you cared. Finally ready for walk on the wild side are you sweetie?"

As the carriage pulled slowly away under direction from the strange Brits the interested New Yorkers could hear the bossy woman berating the 'princess' who was apparently actually a Queen.

"For fuck's sake Alice. Could you _please_ stop molesting me, your wife's brother is literally right there."

 **Office of the President of the Magical States of North America, New York City. 4th July 1999. 09.00 a.m**

The room where the President of the Magical States of North America spent most of his working days was an almost exact copy of his mundane counterpart's official workspace and Hermione recognised the 'Oval Office' instantly. She did feel that they had overdone it a bit with the black suited security wizards and the fact that all they had done to change the Seal of the President was to replace the eagle's arrows and olive branch with a wand and a broomstick. She felt that this was just typical of the lazy attitude that had permeated and held back the wizarding world for centuries. Also the President himself was a bit of a dick which he fully demonstrated with almost his first comment in response to Alice's interest in her surroundings.

"Oooh Presidential pens. Do you think I could grab a few, my wife and consorts would love these."

"Help yourself. We don't go much on Polygamy here in the civilised world of course. Don't you find it terribly hard work?"

The President's four bodyguards stationed around the room all caught that sudden snarl of anger that flashed in the British monarch's weird eyes and tensed up, ready for action. Big Jody Fischer didn't seem to be concerned though, putting out his usual air of charm and friendly helpfulness that people who didn't know him thought was how he always was. In actual fact they all knew the man to be an utterly ruthless bastard who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Which is how he had risen to his present rank. One step below the President and with considerably more power at his command was not somewhere you got to be without noticing the small things or being cool under pressure and he was aware of the Queen's ire at his nominal boss' stupid question. He decided to diffuse the situation by diving in with a question of his own.

"So Your Majesty, if I might be so bold as to enquire why you have decided to visit the MSNA?"

"But _of course_ you may enquire Mister Fischer."

The silence stretched out for some considerable time before the President's chief of staff realised that she was not going to actually give him an answer. Not that she had said she would. Ah. It was going to be _that_ kind of game was it. His respect for, and wariness of, Alice went up a couple of notches. His intelligence on the Black Queen was obviously not quite as complete as he had imagined. Big Jody was not a fan of surprises and even more so of not having all the information about dangerous, charismatic and, if he was any judge, slightly insane people who came to his country looking for missing friends. He glanced over at the discrete young man in the corner and tapped the file with a surrupticious nod at their royal visitor and his under-secretary immediately disappeared to try and drum up some more sources on her.

Alice noticed this as she did everything that went on around her but decided not to comment and left all the boring political crap and meaningless double talk to her brunette lieutenant. Mia was so much better at it than she was, Alice's favoured option of getting her own way being to hit people with her axe until they agreed that she could do whatever the fuck she wanted. And while that would, no doubt, be an enormous amount of fun it probably wouldn't help in the long run. Look at her thinking ahead. She really had come a long way since she had skipped out of Broadwhich Secure Psychiatric Unit and into the wizarding world. She gestured at her old friend to tie up the details of their 'Dumbles Hunt' while she snagged some paper from the President's desk, returned to the sofa, crossed her legs on it and started doodling some bunnies with one of her newly acquired pens.

Hermione shook her head and smirked slightly before turning to the two most powerful wizards in the MSNA and getting down to the business of the day. Without Alice's less than helpful input it took her very little time indeed to inform them of their purpose here in America and also to thrash out what kind of assistance their hosts were prepared to offer. Mister Fischer was clearly the brains of the outfit and she addressed most of remarks to him, which was a good move as the President appeared to have followed Alice's example and was scratching away on a pad of his own. The two second-in-commands shared a knowing look and got back to their discussion on immunity for any mildly (or more than likely _wildly_ ) illegal actions that may or may not occur in the course of the British contingent's investigations.

 **Sub Department of Natural Resources. 4th July 1999. 2.30 p.m.**

Peering down her magical microscope the red headed woman at the worn work bench took in a sharp breath and smiled to herself as she finally found what she was looking for. The chlorophyll cells were at last starting to engage and merge with the more magical elements that bound the plant's already excellent healing properties. With this addition to it's genetic structure the wyrmwood bush would not exactly get any more potent but it would allow it to be grown in a moist corner of a normal greenhouse rather than the almost impenetrable marsh that was it's natural habitat. This kind of inventive thinking and her affinity with all things green and growing was why she was here, having been snapped up on the spot by an under pressure head of the Natural Resources Department.

Of course her 'affinity' for plants was also what had forced her to come back to the magical world in the first place. The MSNA was probably the only place that the super criminal known as Poison Ivy would be safe from the major pain in the ass that was the caped crusader of Gotham City. Fucking bat eared motherfucker. So for the first time in a decade she had donned her birth name of Pamela Isley and her witch's hat and headed for New York's Salem Street and the Department of Magical Affairs.

She was so caught up in her work that she didn't notice the approach of the group of large, bulky wizards until they were right in front of her and casting a massive shadow across her cramped workspace. When she did look up at her unexpected visitors she knew that she most likely was in a lot of trouble. Jody Fischer, the President's chief of staff and chief enforcer did not visit junior members of staff in small sub departments like this for any _good_ reasons. Shit, shit, shit.

"Pamela Isley?"

"Yes what?"

The bad tempered reply did not fill the Chief of Staff with confidence but unfortunately he had a limited supply of expendable red headed witches and certainly none who looked as good as this one. Or who had her extensive knowledge of the underbelly of Gotham City as well as some of it's more interesting residents. She was perfect for this assignment as his research had revealed the Black Queen's extreme penchant for both red heads and bad girls, but it seemed as if Miss Isley was in need of of an attitude adjustment before she would be allowed near her. Which he was happy to provide.

"Come with me I have a job for you."

As the President's Chief of Staff explained the task that he wanted her to do for him Pamela became very quiet and started to twitch uncontrollably every time he said the name of ... _that_ place. It wasn't even as if she could say that she would be looking forward to this job if it weren't in her least favourite city in the world. Playing nursemaid to a bunch of soppy British witches as they blundered around in the dark locales of any city, searching for some horny old goat of an ambassador didn't sound like a particularly fun time to her.

"No fucking way."

"Let me make something very clear _Miss Ivy_ , I know precisely who you are and what you have done." He smiled grimly as she suddenly went very still. "You think you have a choice in this? You don't. You think that I will hesitate to hand you over to the mundane authorities if you refuse? I won't." He paused again to let this sink in before delivering the knockout blow. "It's this or Arkham Miss Ivy."

Fuck.

As much as she hated to admit it, her boss' boss' boss was right on the money with this one. She really didn't have a choice in the matter. Not if she wanted to have even the hint of a chance of staying out of that hateful brick and steel Asylum in Gotham's Bowery District. Arkham. She was never going back to that fucking shit hole. Which meant that she was going to have to do what that smug bastard Fischer wanted. She sighed and reluctantly nodded her agreement.

"Okay. What do I need to know."

"Let's meet your charges shall we."

On the long, mundane car ride across New York, Pamela maintained her outward composure but internally her mind was going nineteen to the dozen. She had expected, at most, a short walk down Salem Street to one of the fancy hotels there and this journey across the city was filling her with even more nerves than she already had. Who exactly were these people that she would be assisting and liasing with and more importantly what did they expect her to do? Nerves turned into confusion and not a little trepidation as they entered Pier eighty eight and pulled up in front of the gangplank of what she knew from her time in the mundane world to be the Royal Yacht Britannia. She had a bad feeling about this.

A pretty young witch with long, curly brown hair bustled up to the group, nodded to Mister Fischer and without any fuss or introduction led her up the long metal stairs and onto the large, luxurious yacht. The furnishings in the state room into which they were directed were decadent, yet tasteful, and reeked of regal opulence. Her butt had barely touched the seat of the plush sofa before she was pulled gently to her feet by her silent guide and brought over to greet the raven haired goddess who had just entered.

"Miss Isley, may I introduce you to Alice the First, by the Grace of Merlin, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland and of Her other Realms and Territories Queen, Head of the Wizarding Nation, Defender of the Faith."

"Hello." The fantastically beautiful young woman bounced up to her and gave her a long, lingering, inspection. "Oh, Ding Dong."

Oh fuck me. Staring into those fascinating eyes, one of brown, one of blue, both as utterly insane as her weird friend Harley's, Pamela felt her knees starting to buckle. Now she knew who she was working for and she had never been more scared of what the future held for her. The wielder of Death's own wand. The lovely lunatic who had slaughtered half of the dark wizards in Europe armed only with a grenade launcher and a fire-axe. The mad Black Queen of Britain. Alicia Morgana Black. She was _sooo_ fucked right now.

 **Apartment 4c, 410 West 12th Street, The Bowery, Gotham City. 6th July 1999.**

The apartment, though a bit dingy and small, was spotlessly clean. One of the advantages of livin' with a cat she supposed. Blowing her wayward blonde fringe out of her mad, sparkling, blue eyes for the umpteenth time that morning, the young woman who had once been Doctor Harleen Quinzell in another life let out a sigh. She had been staying with her friend Selina Kyle for quite some time now and as nice as it had been at first it was starting to grate on her a bit now. It didn't help that she couldn't even amuse herself by getting down and dirty with the slinky, sexy cat woman since Sel' said that she didn't swing that way. Selfish little bitch. You'd have thought that she would give it a try at least if only to cheer up, what Harley was sure was, her _only_ damn friend in this whole stinkin', fuckin' city. Bot _noooo_ , only boys were allowed to enter there. The silly little thing didn't know what she was missin', Harley had _mad_ skills with the ladies, which the kitty cat might just find out one of these days if she kept up teasin' her like she had been.

In the past she would have skipped over to Poison Ivy's place, if she didn't have access to some random, hot 'normal' chick who would bang her out of lust or fear or gratitude for not bein' dead (Harley didn't care which) and they'd have fucked the night away, but Ivy was gone. Gone like a lot of the criminals in Gotham these days. Some were dead like her former boss, some were in Arkham and some, the lucky ones like Ivy, had just simply left. Fuckin' white hat do-gooders were ruinin' this crazy, dirty town with all their laws and their funny (funny peculiar that is not funny ha-ha) ideas about 'returning to the moralistic behaviour of our forefathers'. What a pile of horse shit. Harley was pretty sure that Gotham had always been this way, the stinkin' cess-pool of humanity that it was but it was _her_ cess-pool and she fuckin' loved it. Until the Bat had returned that is.

The fuckin' Bat-Man. That cape wearin' prick had nearly caught her red headed fuck toy and had scared her so bad that Ivy had just up and split. She didn't give a clown's cunt about the Joker or any of her idiot, gang member colleagues, but that bat brained butt-hole had run off her sorta, kinda, part-time girlfriend and that really fuckin' _burned_. So knowing that her extremely criminally active room-mate was gettin' boned by him on a regular basis made her even madder than she already was. Not that she could do anything about it. Sel' was givin' her a safe, comfortable place to stay, free of charge and she had made it very clear that whatever she got up to with the hypocritcal hyper-hero was none of her fuckin' business. So here she sat at the window, staring out over the seedy Crown Point area, across the filthy river and all the way over to the up-town docks. She sighed again and went through her meagre belongings.

It had been three months since the B-Man had beaten her boss to a bloody pulp and dropped him off the roof of a thirty storey building and Harley Quinn was bored and frustrated. Like unbelievably bored and like incrediby frustrated. Since the Joker's untimely, but actually pretty funny, demise all of the old gang were being hunted down and rounded up and nobody wanted to hire her on as she was too mentally unstable and too much trouble apparently. How could she be too much trouble for Pennywise's sake, they were fuckin' criminals, trouble was kind of the point. Well it was for her anyway. Yes, fightin' and fuckin' and stealin' were all very good fun but that wasn't what really got her heart racing and her blood pumping. Taking a normal everyday situation and turning it completely upside down to create an unholy, chaotic mess, _that_ was where it was _really_ at. Chaos was the king, mayhem was the queen and Harley loved them both.

Unfortunately she was not in a position to show her love for the royal couple as she was still on the run and not _quite_ crazy enough to want to spend another stint in Arkham. That place was dull, dull, dull and even the thought of it made her already bad mood do another sharp nose-dive. Something else that didn't help with her mood was the fact that she was having to look like and dress like a 'normal'. Yuk. The normals were just _sooo_ boring. It was like colour and style were a totally foreign concept to them, with all their blacks and greys and browns. Harley smiled longingly and lovingly as she stroked the bright blue and scarlet, skintight harlequin suit in her lap and flicked one of the little bells on it's wildly eccentric, attached hat. The blonde let out a shuddering sigh that caught the attention of her hostess as she walked through the kitchen wearing just a towel.

"You okay Harley, you seem down. Can I do anything to help?"

"You could let me get in the shower with ya."

"I love you Harls but no. Still loving the cock." She smiled at her pouting friend and dropped the towel. "I'll let you have a little peek though."

Harley's jaw dopped comically as she watched her, now extremely naked friend sashay her way into the bathroom and into her shower, leaving all the doors open and begin to soap up that awesome toned body of hers. If she had had anything in the way of self control she would have looked away. But she didn't. So she couldn't.

After Sel' had finished off cleanin' herself and got dressed (boo) the blonde maniac returned to her previous occupation of staring out of the window only to notice that the scene had changed somewhat. A big, fancy boat with three masts and a yellow funnel was easing gently down the river, heading straight for Gotham docks. For no apparent reason Harley's heart began to beat a little faster and she felt the thrill of anticipation starting to build in her badly broken brain. Something was coming. Something big. Something bad. She saw blood in her future and a lot of it. Yay! Hugging her favourite basesball bat, Mister Goodnight, to her and caressing the painted and polished surface of the ash lovingly, Harley Quinn began to rock back and forth, giggling hysterically to herself.

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 **So what do we think. Worth the wait?**

 **Reviews are like cuddles. You can never have enough of them.**

 **Good? Bad? Leave your thoughts although you can always PM me with ideas, suggestions, comments if you want. Dylan the Rabbit. xx**


	3. Chapter 3

**I would just remind you before you start this chapter that this story is M rated. Very M rated. As you are about to discover if you read on, sex and bloody violence are going to be all over this fic like flies on dog shit. Don't say you haven't been warned.**

 **Clearly I don't own either Harry Potter or DC comics as I'm writing this in cold, rainy England and not sat on my own private beach in Thailand.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**

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 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice.**

 **Chapter 2. Mirror, Mirror.**

 **Royal Yacht Britannia, Pier Ten Uptown Dock, Gotham City. 7th July 1999. 6.30 p.m.**

Meeting back in Alice's stateroom aboard the Royal Yacht the five witches slumped into the various comfy chairs and sofas dotted around the room and each gave a long sigh. As days went it had not been one of the most productive they had ever enjoyed. They had decided that morning to split up into two groups so as to cover more ground. Well that's how Hermione had sold it to Alice anyway. In reality she just didn't want to have to deal with the fallout if her mentally unstable boss turned up at the the police building and was given the run around that she fully expected to get, thus causing Alice to have a meltdown. Those always got a lot messier than she was comfortable with. So the plan was that Pamela, or Ivy as they had discovered that she was referred to locally, would take Alice and Hestia to Albus' hotel for a scout around while she and Emmeline visited the City Hall and it's on site Police Department.

Alice had glamoured Ivy to look slightly ... _different_ to how she normally appeared so that there wouldn't be any problems should they run into any law enforcement officers or people that knew her as Poison Ivy. Which was everyone in Gotham apparently. The look that Alice decided to go with, while unknown to the citizens of their current location, was extremely (intimately) well known to her and had caused her to spend a good ten minutes chasing the woman who now looked like a taller version of Harriet Potter around the yacht. Ivy managed to avoid the clutches of the lecherous Black Queen for long enough to convince her that they really should get going if they wanted to interview the hotel staff today. The insane young woman was still pouting when they had pulled up to the Excelsior Grand Hotel on Park Street half an hour later to be told politely but firmly by the manager that not only had a missing persons report not been filed but that he had never even heard of a Mister Dumbledore.

Of course he was lying through his suspiciously perfect, straight, white teeth. Alice was rather an expert on the art of lying, being an exceptional practitioner of it herself. Deciding to 'get low' in order to find out what she needed Alice left Ivy arguing with the manager, sidled off into the Staff Only part of the hotel and had quickly found a couple of Cuban maids who had been on cleaning duty for the rooms for the past few weeks. Once she had them nice and relaxed, giggling at her irreverent humour and sexually charged stories and jokes the two girls were ready to share just about everything they had with the foxy little black haired British woman. Including the fact that the police had in fact been called and a missing persons report filed by the hotel manager as well as some of the more intimate parts of their bodies. It had rapidly turned into a rather fun afternoon for Alice and her dusky playmates and she had returned to Hestia and Ivy three hours later tired but extremely happy with a photocopy of the register for the day old Dumbles had checked in.

Unfortunately Hermione and Emmeline had run into the brick wall of denial at Gotham City's Police Plaza, having been given an extended run around in several depatments before finally ending up in the office of Commissioner Gordon. Here the observant and talented Miss Granger watched stony faced as he straight out lied to them about the disappearance of her old headmaster. It wasn't exactly unexpected thanks to Ivy's description of the corruption that riddled this particular little mouldy slice of the United States but it still disappointed her. Despite her working for a somewhat despotic magical monarch, Hermione still believed in the absolute necessity of public servants doing the best job that they possibly could to help and protect the people and the attitude of Gotham's finest had really got her dander up.

"So everyone that we've asked so far has lied to us."

There was much serious nodding of heads from the British witches at this which caused Ivy to give them a long and slightly pitying look.

"Well duh. Welcome to Gotham City."

"Perhaps it's time to stop asking nicely." Alice grinned happily at the thought. "Or at all."

It seemed that even Hermione had had enough of being given the run around as it was she that turned to their American liason and asked.

"So Ivy, know anyone who can get us in to the Police headquarters without setting off all the alarms and giving Alice a reason to make a big mess?"

"She needs a reason?"

"Not usually no, but we do try and at least keep the temptation to a minimum."

"Hmmm, yes, well as for your ... shall we call it a security issue ... I do happen to know someone that may be able to help out with that. She won't be cheap though."

"Definitely not a problem. Would she prefer gold or diamonds do you think?"

The red headed witch/supervillain blinked in surprise. Not that she should have been, thinking about it. Alice was the Head of one of the founding thirteen families of the place where Merlin himself had been born and practised what was considered to be the most innovative and powerful magic ever known in the magical world. Of course she would have access to wealth of quite staggering amounts. Plus she obviously had no problems with theft so who knows how much she had personally added to that herself. Selina was going to _love_ her newest, well heeled client.

 **Office of the District Attorney, Gotham City. 7th July 1999. 11.00 a.m**

The ofice hadn't changed much since the time before Harvey Dent's brush with the Joker and his subsequent corrosive waste semi facial, certainly not as much as it's occupant had at any rate. Jim Gordon still remembered the ideallistic, if slightly naive, young man that he had been and this harsh and unyielding monster that he had become was an appalling parody of his former self. This being Gotham, of course, there were many people of dubious repute who would seek to capitalise on this change in the man and it wasn't long before they had gotten their hooks into the once incorruptable District Attorney. Harvey Dent was now somebody's bitch. It didn't matter whose, these assholes were all alike, and in order to remain in his job and do the best he could for his home town's law abiding citizens Jim had to make the occasional compromise with the man who was effectively his boss. The reason for his visit today would be one of those compromises that he had been forced to make.

"I hear you had a visitor from the old country this morning Commissioner."

Commissioner Gordon wasn't surprised that the information had got back here, only that it had taken this long for him to be summoned.

"Yes, a certain Ms Lovegood, a very capable and well connected young woman who is looking for her friend's elderly relative who has gone missing, a Mister ... Dumbledore I understand."

"The same Mister Dumbledore whose missing person's report I asked you to classify and then inform me if anyone asked about him?"

"The very same."

"You told them that you hadn't even heard of him of course."

"Of course."

"And were they convinced?"

"Not really, no. The one who seemed to be in charge told me that I may wish to take a very long vacation somewhere remote when her boss found out that I had being lying to them and why."

"She threatened you?"

"To be honest with you Harvey it felt more like a warning. The young lady said it with a great deal of pity in her voice and as much as I value and want to keep our 'special relationship' intact if I ever do meet this boss of hers I don't think I'm going to be keeping any secrets for very long." He back-tracked a bit at Dent's angrily flashing eyes. "However much I may want to keep them."

Harvey nodded at his Police Commissioner and sent him from his office with a condescending wave of his hand. As much as he hated to admit it Gordon did have a point. If this rich and well connected person behind the unflappable Ms Lovegood was as dangerous as they both suspected then this could mean trouble for his employer. Trouble that Harvey would be expected to deal with personally. Well that was alright, he hadn't let his Two-Face side out to play much recently and it might be nice to indulge in some good old fashioned gangster behaviour (blackmail, persuasion and if all else failed, homicide) with this up-start from the Colonial homeland. His employer might even be more grateful than usual.

 **Apartment 4c, 410 West 12th Street, The Bowery, Gotham City. 7th July 1999. 11.30 p.m.**

Selina Kyle was busy preparing herself and her gear for her latest job for what was a new and hopefully extremely lucrative prospective client that Poison Ivy of all people had brought her. If the red headed mistress of all things plant-life was to be believed, and that was certainly up for debate, then she could not afford to fuck this up, so preparation was the key here. It was not going as well as she hoped, however, and Harley popping up and getting in her way every thirty seconds wasn't exactly making things go any quicker.

" _Pleaase_ Kitty cat I haven't been out of this place in months and it's drivin' me fuckin' ... "

She was going to say nuts but the word seemed a bit redundant.

"Harls this is an operation for a new client requiring discretion and stealth neither of which you are exactly famous for being over endowed with my darling, so no. Not this time I'm afraid."

But Harley was not taking no for an answer.

She had been cooped up in this fuckin' apartment for far too long and she needed to do something, _anything_ , that would get her out of this place. This included planting one her patented clown-face personnel trackers on the now lycra clad cat burglar under the pretence of copping a quick feel. The fact that she got to give that fine, firm ass a good ol' fashioned squeeze was just a little added bonus for her. She tried to contain her small squeaks of excitement and snuck off to her room to don her much loved harlequin suit and mask in preparation for tailing her room-mate. Wherever it was that Sel' was headed off to it was bound to be more excitin' than sittin' here on her own in the dark flickin' herself off again.

Fuck that.

Harley waited for ten minutes after she heard the front door click before taking off after the cat woman, sticking to the shadows and checking the direction finder on her comically over sized watch every now and again. Soon enough she found herself crouched behind a dumpster and watching in disbelief as her erstwhile friend met up with a group of three women in an alley down the side of Police Plaza, one of whom had a head of very familiar red hair indeed. What the ever lovin' fuck was Ivy doin' back here and more to the point why hadn't she looked up her old fuck buddy as soon as she got back. When Harley caught the flash of a pale, delicate face under the hood of a black cloak she stopped wondering about that. Hubba fuckin' hubba. Yeah she'd have passed herself up for that cute piece of candy too.

She got even more excited when the cloak billowed as the group headed through a side door and into the Cop-shop and she saw the dress beneath it. Red and blue and chequered in an almost exact mirror of her own outfit. Who the fuck was this girl? Why was she here with Ivy? A nasty, sharp little pang of jealous rage flooded through her at the unwelcome thought that Ivy got to make whoopie with this chick who was clearly destined for her and her alone. Shaking her head to clear it of distractions Harley bounded silently across the street and followed the quartet of hot girls through the previously locked and alarmed door and into the last place she that she should have wanted to go. Police Headquarters. Whose fuckin' stupid idea was this anyway. Oh that's right. Hers.

Alice was aware that they were being followed from pretty much the first moment that they had stepped into the impressive but run-down building but since their shadow seemed more intent on watching them than hindering their progress she had decided to let it play out. Passive leglimancy was a relatively new skill for her, something that her mother had badgering her to learn for ages, but even with her lack of experience she could feel the ... _interest_ ... pouring off of her stalker. Which was nice. It took until the third file room before her, up until now, impressive (for her) self control broke and she turned to confront the little minx.

One of the bells on her three pronged jester hat knocked against the desk and Harley froze and held her breath. She was about to start breathing again when she felt a gentle tugging sensation coming the vertical prong of her hat and she was pulled above the desk to come face to face with the girl in the cloak. She had thought that the girl looked good from a distance but up close she was almost impossibly beautiful with long, gleaming raven locks framing a delicate, pale, perfect, heart shaped face and as for those eyes. Oh my fuckin' Gawd. Elbow resting on the desk top, chin supported in the hand that wasn't holding her hat, head cocked to one side the gorgeous girl grinned at her in a rather predatory manner before speaking in a very sexy, husky and ... _odd_ voice.

"Hewo Wabbit."

Staring into a pair of the most memerisingly insane eyes that she had ever seen (including in the mirror) the blonde lunatic shivered and for the first time since she had met the Joker, Harley Quinn was truly frightened. This girl was, okay incredibly hot and sexy, but also projecting an air of absolute darkness and horror that filled her with a bladder emptying sense of terror. In a city full of big bad villains and heroes this black haired, black hearted vision of loveliness was absolutely the most scary thing on it's filthy, crime ridden streets and Harley was determined to make herself an indispensible asset to her. In whatever capacity she would have her.

"Love the suit sweetie, where did you get it?"

"I made it myself" Her voice sounded small and strange in her own ears.

"Well aren't you a clever little thing."

Seeing the wonder in those fascinating and hypnotic mis-matched eyes, Harley was suddenly inordinately proud of herself for some reason and felt the completely unbidden and unexpected rush of blood to her cheeks. And other areas of course. Ivy noticed it too and was equally as amazed to see her strange friend and some time lover blush at so simple a compliment. Harley never blushed. Like ever. The red head had done some truly toe curling things to that girl in the course of their naughty, adrenaline fuelled sex romps and not so much as a tinge of pink had dusted her cheeks. Well not on the cheeks on her face anyway so this was a new and surprising development. Neither her surprise nor Harley's blushes were lessened as the flirtatious banter flew between the two lunatics.

"So do you know anywhere we can go and have some _fun_ Sweetpants?"

"Well that all depends on what kind of _fun_ you're after Doll."

"What have you got Fluffle bunny?"

"Oh wouldn't you like to ... "

"Yes, yes we all get the point, you want to fuck her, she wants to fuck you, trust me we all get it. Now can we please just pick up what we came here for and get the fuck out of here before we all end up in jail." Hermione was not nearly as patient as the gob-smacked Ivy or the highly amused Selina.

"But Mia we're already ... in ... jail." She tailed off as she saw the brunette's eye begin to twitch.

Not wanting to push her brunette friend any further towards the limits of her patience tonight, Alice decided to hurry things along somewhat and whipped out the elder wand to _accio_ the missing persons report on her wayward ambassador. This resulted in a great deal of rattling and banging from an office at the end of the hall which Hermione helped out with by pulling her own wand and casting a couple of well placed _alohomoras,_ unlocked the wildly bucking file cabinet and the outer door. Alice grinned at the reactions of her companions as the manilla folder that she was looking for hit her outstretched hand.

Ivy shook her head in exasperation at the completely un-necessary display of magic as this was why they had brought Selina with them after all. The Catwoman herself was suddenly much less bored than she had been having felt herself get all excited and twitchy at the bright flashing lights coming from those little sticks in the hands of her employers and just managed to stop herself chasing around after them. Which just left Harley. The masked and harlequin suited girl was in absolute raptures over how these two rather beautiful young women were able to move things around with a simple wave of their sticks and she let everybody know it.

"That was so fuckin' _cool_. Do it again, do it again!"

To be fair to Harley it may not have been her enthusiastic shouting alone that set off the alarms and alerted the guards to their presence as Alice had decided to show off a bit in front of this scrummy looking girl in the very pretty outfit and was busy giving her a bit of a light show with her wand. Ivy finally overcame her surprise enough to question the least mentally afflicted member of their their little raiding party.

"Is she always like this?"

"Always. What about yours?"

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Drink?"

"Definitely."

Ivy took Hermione by the arm and quickly apparated them back to the yacht while Selina bounded up the wall and slinked out of a narrow barred window leaving Harley and Alice giggling at pretty lights and blaring sirens. The smile that lit up the Black Queen's face when she saw the four armed guards racing in their direction made Harley's stomach do another funny flip-flop. So much so that she nearly missed it when Alice popped a huge multi-coloured mallet into existence and lobbed it at her before shouting out an enthusiastic 'woo hoo' and charging at the cops, waving a bright red fire-axe above her head. Pennywise's pee stained pants could this girl even get any more fuckin' perfect.

 **Royal Yacht Britannia, Pier Ten Uptown Dock, Gotham City. 8th July 1999. 09.30 a.m.**

Hangover potions were a great invention Alice had decided as she downed her second of the morning along with a pepper up to combat the fatigue that was starting to set in now. Her rampage across half of Gotham City with the girl in the skintight harlequin costume had only ended three hours ago when Harley Quinn (an obvious psuedonym but she wasn't really in a position to preach morals) had passed out on the table of the Crown Point bar where they had ended up. It was only a short hop back to the apartment in the Bowery where Harley lived and Alice made it there in quick time, even blind drunk with an insensible, costumed girl in her arms. She had layed her fun new friend gently down on the worn leather sofa and covered her with her own thick cloak, placing a lingering kiss on her lips before stupidly doing a little drunk apparition back to the yacht. Fortunately she had managed to not splinch herself, more by luck than judgement mind you, and had soon fallen fast asleep on her own sofa only to be woken two hours later by Hestia telling her that she had a visitor.

When he was ushered into her presence all of her former tiredness just fell away as she saw him. He looked like your typical villain and she was now anticipating a fun morning _questioning_ him. The man across from her wore a nicely tailored, very expensive suit and a mask that covered half of his face like some comic book phantom of the opera motherfucker. She dis-liked him at first sight and after ten minutes of his rude and clumsy questioning about her invovement in last night's break in at City Hall she positively hated him now. His name was Harvey Dent and while he may not be the brains of the kidnapping operation he clearly knew something about the people who had taken her beardy weirdy old friend that's for damn sure. Alice decided to push a few of his buttons and see where it went.

"Your face is funny." She grinned as the obvious anger flashed in his eyes. "Did you head butt a belt sander or something?" The art was to play on his emotional instability taking him to the point of rage before pulling back only to start again. "Drink?"

"Constantly."

He was cool under pressure she would give him that Alice thought as she poured him a large measure of scotch and herself another cup of strong, black coffee.

"Bit of a rookie mistake you coming here alone to visit the terrible Black Queen you know."

"Not really, I've dealt with meddling do-gooders like you before. Did you get much out of your little eafter hours excursion to the Police Department last night?"

"I see. So now everybody knows who everybody is." Her mis-matched eyes sparkled with anticipation of the violence to come. "Okie dokie then." Alice gave him the cocked head and manic grin, "Let's get started shall we?"

The tall and vastly over confident man lunged at her fast while reaching to the small of his back for the large Desert Eagle pistol concealed there only for his groin to explode in pain she swung the pointed toe of her boot to connect solidly with his balls. He got the barest glimpse of the little stick in her hand pointing at him before he was spread-eagled in mid air and totally unable to move. His clothes moved though. All the way across the fucking room, leaving him naked as the day he was born.

"Mine."

The strange young woman sing-songed as she plucked the gun from his limp fingers and admired it's shiny surfaces and the heavy, deadly presence that it had. Thumbing the release button to drop the magazine from it's place in the handle and racking the slide to eject the chambered round Alice caught it and weighed the bullet in her palm. She gave a low whistle before placing it and the big weapon on the low side table next to where it's magazine had fallen.

"Hello pretty, you and I are going to have _so_ much fun later, but just for now you get to watch me work on your former owner."

Lifting the hem of her dress and reaching underneath it's silky fabric folds Alice slipped her knife from the sheath that was strapped to her stockinged upper thigh. She tapped her chin with the flat of the blade of her blackened and serrated Randle 18 survival knife and smiled as she saw the magically bound man's eyes widen.

"Do you like my knife? I got it after I saw that Rambo film at Mia's house." She licked the blade and started to chuckle as he shuddered in fear. "I'm a _big_ fan of the franchise. Especially the torture scenes. Of course they got the details all wrong but what can you expect from those amateurs in Hollywood but the idea of flaying the prisoner alive though was rather inspired"

His eyes followed her around the room as she paced up and down, gesticulating wildly as she enthusiasticaly explained the most effective ways of extracting the needed information from someone while causing them the maximum amount of pain possible. That part was just for fun apparently. There were very few things in this world that could put the fear of God into Harvey Dent but the highly dangerous and utterly insane young woman in front of him was managing just that. And then it got much worse as she had seemingly decided where to start.

"Well we don't need _that_."

With one swift swipe of her blade she castrated him and dropped the small collection of previously dangling objects on the floor with a little grimace of disgust. Alice was going to take this opportunity to make herself something that she had always wanted this morning and decided to be a gracious hostess and let her guest in on the details a bit.

"Did you know that the Sumerians wrote quite extensively on the art of flaying people alive, but it was dear old Vlad Dracula who really discovered the fun stuff." Alice spoke calmly and conversationally to the screaming, naked man splayed out in her sitting room as if she were taking tea with her mother. "You see, along with impaling his enemies on stakes he also liked to use other torture methods ... like?" She paused politely to allow the District Attorney to reply and only continued when it became obvious that this wasn't going to happen. "Flaying. Come along Mister Dent, do pay attention. "Now where was I. Oh yes, well you see it was rumoured that big, bad Vlad had a suit made from the skin of an amir that he managed to harvest from the man in one piece."

Harvey was wishing at this point that he had died that night in the warehouse where the Joker had left him in a pool of corrosive chemicals which had burned half of his face off and driven him mad with grief over his murdered fiancee. Not as mad as this sadistic bitch of course but madder than most of the pussies in the blighted City. He stared bug eyed at his own severed penis and testicles lyng in patheticly small pile on the ornate rug and prayed to a God that he didn't believe in that his pain would soon be over. It wouldn't.

"It took _ages_ tromping all over bloody Romania to find his journal and more than a few goes to get the technique right but I really think I've got it down now ... well more or less anyway."

The terrifying woman gave him a very nasty smile.

"Now according to the Sumerians one should start at the face and then work down but Vlad discovered that if you begin at the ankles ... "

The razor sharp knife scored a line right around each ankle causing a small stream of bright blood to coat his feet.

" ... and then work upwards ... "

Two new lines quickly joined the slit ankles to the ragged hole where his genitals once resided.

" ... then you could peel the skin in large sections while keeping the subject alive and mostly conscious ... "

She grunted as she worked to free the outer layer from the muscles and tendons beneath and had almost reached his hips before she realised that he had passed out from the pain. Alice shook her head sadly, bemoaning the fragility of the human body as she retrieved her wand and enervated her victim. Once again the sweet sound of screaming caressed her ears as she made another pair of great, sweeping cuts up the bloody torso with a flick and a flourish as if conducting a symphony that only she could hear.

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 **Reviews are like cuddles. You can never have enough of them.**

 **Good? Bad? Leave your thoughts although you can always PM me with ideas, suggestions, comments if you want. Dylan the Rabbit. xx**


	4. Chapter 4

**I would just like to remind you once again before you start this chapter that this story is M rated. Very M rated. As you are about to discover if you read on, sex and bloody violence are going to be all over this fic like flies on dog shit. Don't say you haven't been warned.**

 **Clearly I don't own either Harry Potter or DC comics as I'm writing this in cold, rainy England and not sat on my own private beach in Thailand.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**

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 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice.**

 **Chapter 3. Fuck Me Pumps.**

 **Royal Yacht Britannia, Pier Ten Uptown Dock, Gotham City. 8th July 1999. 10.30 a.m.**

The soul shattering screams that rent the peace of the morning had Ivy sitting up sharply in bed, something that she immediately regretted for a couple of reasons. The first was that her head was instantly set to pounding from a monster of a hangover and the second was that the movement meant that she realised that she was neither in her own bed nor was she alone. There was a sleepy grumbling from the mass of thick, curly, brown hair spread out across the pillow next to her at the sudden loss of warmth and a slender hand waved around for a bit before gripping the edge of the comforter and pulling it back over herself. Only one young woman of her acquaintance had such wild and wonderful locks as that. Hermione Lovegood.

Shit. Just how drunk had they got last night? Ivy noted the chill in the morning air, the impressive hickeys and the goosebumps that covered her conspicuously naked flesh and realised that they had obviously got drunk enough. Deciding that she needed to check anyway the red head carefully lifted the covers again and saw nothing but an expanse of smooth, lightly tanned, skin unblemished apart from a bite mark on her pert butt. Hmmm. Drunk enough but clearly not _too_ drunk then. Thinking how unfair it was that she couldn't remember any of the details, Ivy wondered if her bushy haired bed mate would be up for a repeat performance this morning. After she had got rid of this pounding damn headache that is. She dropped the duvet back quickly and looked around for something to cover herself with as the extremely gorgeous young witch began to stir.

She gazed at the fabulously beautiful brunette as with the barest mumble of a wandless _accio_ later and a potion shot across the cabin from Hermione's dresser and into her outstretched hand. Another mumble and the horrifying screaming came to an abrupt halt as her silencing charm went up around the bed and spread slowly outwards until it reached the walls of her opulent cabin. As the young woman rolled on to her back, eyes closed and still clutching the potion bottle Ivy felt herself getting more than a little wet at the sight of all of that firm, nubile young flesh on display beneath her. Before any serious rumpy pumpy could be attempted, however, she needed to care of something first.

"Do you think you could get me one of those?"

One of those wonderfully warm, chocolate brown eyes slowly opened and it's much more unfocused owner perused the expanse of slightly green tinged skin and bright red hair propped up on one elbow by her side.

"What the ... oh." Hermione's blush spread frm the tips of her toes to the roots of her wild and barely manageable mane of hair. "Ohhhhh."

"So you remember what happened then?"

"Nope." She handed Ivy her own hangover potion and summoned another for herself. "Not a bloody clue." Taking a moment to shudder at the taste of the hideous brew Hermione continued on with a furrowed brow and renewed blushes. "I mean we obviously ... you know ... but honestly the last thing I remember is raiding Alice's liquor cabinet. Bloody tequila."

"Soooo cute."

Having first downed her own potion Ivy smiled at the flustered British witch and stroked her cheek fondly to which the girl responded by leaning in to the touch with a long drawn out sigh and turning slightly kissed her palm. Thrilled at the prospect of getting to have her way with the luscious young woman while sober and in full control of her faculties she put her hand under Hermione's chin and tilted it up so that she could place a kiss on those full lips. The younger girl moaned into her mouth and Ivy immediately took the proffered opportunity to slip her tongue between her teeth. It was fun for her to watch those big brown eyes widen in surprise and then narrow again with lust as they did battle with their tongues and Ivy moved to straddle her while not breaking contact. The slim, warm hand was now on hermione's thigh and the former library queen only had one thought currently running around in her head. Americans in general and Miss Poison Ivy in particular were _very_ forward and _very_ saucy. She retaliated with a little manual dexterity of her own before the picture a silver eyed blonde girl flashed through her mind and she halted blinking at the unbidden mental image.

"We shouldn't be doing this, I'm a married woman."

Hermione's statement would have been slightly more convincing if she didn't currently have two fingers buried, knuckle deep in the red headed American beauty.

"Uh-huh." Ivy panted. "Well ... I won't tell her if you don't."

Shrugging her shoulders and eliciting another excited grunt from Ivy as the fingers that were trapped inside her were pushed even deeper by her action, Hermione decided that if her wife had found some way to sense if she was having sex (which knowing Luna was entirely possible) then she might as well give her something good to watch. Having made this decision, which she was almost positive that her extremely peculiar spouse would be over the moon with, the 'brightest witch of her age' set to work in earnest on the red head above her. Before she could really get into her stride, however, Hermione found herself pinned beneath the taller and heavier woman who had released her from their mouth to mouth session and seemed intent on an oral exploration of a different area entirely.

"No don't do that I'm sure I smell terrible."

Hermione was right, she did smell. But it was far from terrible as far as Ivy was conerned. To her the heady aroma rising from the natural brunette's slippery centre smelled nothing short of wonderful. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes, exalting in one last inhalation of that intoxicating womanly aroma of arousal and dived right in. Hermione's head slammed back into the pillow as her new American lover's tongue ran riot up and down her centre, treating her to an exquisite oral bathing the likes of which she had rarely known. Deep green eyes held her own chocolate brown ones captive as scarlet lips closed around the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of her slit and the villainess sucked sharply pulling the nub between her teeth. Holy shit. All thoughts of her wife flew from her head as that wicked tongue danced on her clit and a couple of slim, manicured fingers joined the party to slide effortlessly into her core resulting in a gasped out exclaimation.

"Fuck me."

The red head popped up from between Hermione's thighs and the English rose blushed prettily at the sheer amount of her own juices coating the other woman's mouth and chin as she murmered.

"I thought that's what I was doing."

Ivy seemed to take this comment of Hermione's rather personally as a reflection on, and a challenge to, her skills and decided to step things up a notch or two resuming her former position and running her already slippery index finger around the puckered ring of flesh just below her primary target. The sound that Hermione made when that same digit pushed slowly inside was loud enough and surprised enough to make her smile around the mouthful of pink lower lady lips that she was currently enjoying.

They were interrupted by the door to Hermione's cabin banging open forcefully, heralding the entrance of an excited and almost entirely red Alice who stopped to lean against the door frame and enjoy the show before chuckling out.

"Oooh that _is_ a good idea Mia."

The two sweaty, naked witches in the bed watched dumbstruck as the blood soaked nutter whipped out her wand, splattering the wall with specks of bright crimson red and skipped out of the room calling out. "Point me Harley Quinn." Ivy looked at a frustrated looking Hermione for a moment, then shrugged, purred a little and went back what she was doing, determined not to let Alice's habitually weird behaviour ruin what was panning out to be a very lovely morning. Especially not since it would soon be her turn. She couldn't even begin to express just how much she was looking forward to that.

 **Apartment 4c, 410 West 12th Street, The Bowery, Gotham City. 8th July 1999. 11.30 a.m.**

There hadn't been many occasions in their long on/off friendship on which Selina Kyle found her oddball room-mate to be cute but this morning was definitely one of them. Harley Quinn was sprawled across her big, leather sofa covered in an oddly familiar looking black cloak, a corner of which was crammed into her mouth, thankully silencing the massive snores that usually issued from the small, strange young woman. Her white face paint was smeared and rubbed off in places, tufts of blonde hair were protruding from the now lopsided three pronged jester's had and there was a perfect red lipstick mark on her forehead where someone had placed a chaste kiss. However cute she was, however, Selina was not going to stand for her apartment being turned into a stinky doss house, there was no excuse for Harley to be lying around and making the place untidy when she had a perfectly good bed available to her. She poked the harlequin suited half wit with the plaited handle of her bull whip repeatedly and with increasing severerity until a groan escaped from the rose-bud, make-up smeared lips. The massive amount of pain that her weird little friend was in was indicated in a few obvious ways but the most clear was when she suddenly sat bolt upright, grabbed her head in her hands and exclaimed.

"Fuck me, my head hurts."

"I'm not surprised sweetie you smell like you fell in a vat of bourbon."

"Tequila." Harley now had her head between her knees and her mumbling was made even more incoherent.

'What?"

"It was tequila. That Alice sure does love the Cuervo." Her bloodshot eyes met those of her friend ever so briefly before she belched in a most un-ladylike manner and a half digested shrimp was promptly deposited on the rug in front of her feet. "Oh I don't feel so good."

"No shit." Selina studied the other girl carefully. "Still at least it looks like you managed to not fuck my new client. You know how much it pisses me off when you do that and then don't call them and then _I'm_ the one who gets it in the ass."

"Not yet." Harley murmered under her breath before quicky following up with. "Where did you slope off to anyways?"

"I had an itch that I needed to get ... _scratched_."

Which meant that she'd been off fuckin' the bat twat again. Eeuuwww. Now there was an image that she didn't want in her head. She decided to replace it by thinking about her new British friend Alice. Her very gorgeous, very sexy and very fun new British friend Alice. That girl was absolutely fuckin' batshit insane. In a good, starting fights with bouncers and dirty dancing with strippers kind of a way mind you. And _fuck_ could she hold her liquor. Harley being a former medical student was certainly no stranger to hard alcohol but the beautiful, black haired Brit had literally drunk her under the table. Actually she had drunk her under several tables and then seemingly carried her home and put her to bed. Which was a shame as she would have really liked an opportunity to end their evening out with some hot and sweaty debauched fun after such a promising start.

After beating half a dozen cops to a bloody pulp at the Gotham Police Headquarters last night the raven haired lunatic had waved her stick and done something to the camera equipment in the building and then the two of them had hit, what felt like, every bar and strip joint in the city. They had broken into jewellry shops in order to do some serious accessorizing, stolen a couple of very expensive cars (and wrecked them) so that they wouldn't have to walk more than half a block and been involved in four fist fights. As nights out went it was fuckin' _epic_.

She watched bleary eyed from her position on the sofa while her friend set about puttin' them some lunch together, the mere thought of which was makin' her want to blow chunks, until something happened that perked her right up. There was an almighty crash as Selina leapt straight up into the air and onto the kitchen table when the black haired lunatic from last night apparated from her stateroom on the Royal Yacht straight into the cat burglar's living room with a loud pop and shouted.

"Hi bunny!"

"Alice, you've been having fun without me." Harley pointed an accusing finger at Alice's blood soaked clothes and gave her surprise visitor her poutiest pout.

"Yes but I did bring you a present."

From somewhere beneath her dress the Black Queen retrieved a smallish, brown jar with the word 'Tea' emblazoned across it's front and handed it over to the blonde nut-job with a deep bow. The clear blue eyes started to tear up as she reached into the jar and pulled out a still warm and rather bloody human heart.

"Oooh Alice. I don't know what to say. It's ... It's just ... _beautiful_."

Selina watched in disbelief as Harley rubbed some person's vital organs all over her cheek, leaving a bright red stain and bounced all around the room to end up stood in front of the grinning female butcher. The suddenly bashful blonde shuffled her feet and blushed through her fringe before leaning in and giving the mad-eyed ravenette a hesitant peck on her totally luscious lips.

"So I've got this super shiny new toy that I just ... ummm ... acquired. Do you want to come out and help me play with it?"

Hands folded in front of her demurely Alice put on her very best innocent little girl act, which was rather spoiled by the sheer amount blood covering almost every part of her, and sing-songed out the question to her new, favourite play-mate. For Harley there was no denying this incredible, magical girl who shared her madness of the mind anything that she asked of her, she would follow Alice anywhere, anywhen and never question the why of it.

 **Arkham Asylum, Gotham City. 9th July 1999. 01.00 a.m**

For perhaps the first time since his imprisonment here it was _not_ the thin blanket, the lumpy mattress or the dull, dirty slate grey walls that were keeping him awake and alert. In his small, chilly cell beneath oldest surviving section of Arkham Asylum Albus Dumbledore shivered as he literally _felt_ the magic wafting about in the stale air around him. It wasn't the first time that he had sensed the intoxicating whiff of some serious spells being cast in the area today but it was nowhere near as deadly, oppressive and fear filled magic as he had percieved earlier in the day. This was much lighter and more playful spellcasting that, although just as powerful as before, seemed raw and almost sexual in it's nature.

Ah.

Powerful dark magics involving death and sex.

Alice must have arrived in town.

He felt a little conflicted about this to be honest. Yes it would be very nice to be rescued, take a proper bath, have a slap up gourmet dinner and sleep in a big, comfy four poster (preferably with a studdly young companion to keep him company) but he was rather nervous about the Black Queen's reaction to his incarceration. He was about as close a thing to a friend as Alice had ever had, by this point in fact he was more like one of those odd and embarrassing family members, and she took attacks on her family very poorly indeed. She remained the only person to ever best him in a duel and even though he believed that she had cheated by breaking his wrist and head butting him, she had still managed to dis-arm him and was now in possession of the fabled Deathstick. Albus shuddered at the thought of how much devastation his psychotic psuedo grand daughter could cause with that if given enough incentive.

Frankly she was more than likely to cause massive amounts of death and destruction without any incentive at all so the blood bath that she was bound to indulge in with the excuse that his kidnapping had given her was sure to be quite extraordinary. And probably rather entertaining. Albus wished that he could have put his favourite Salem Street magical cleaners on alert as he had grown quite fond of his orange jumpsuit and would rather not have it ruined. He found himself hoping that that nice Miss Granger, sorry, Mrs Lovegood (he _still_ couldn't quite believe that development) had tagged along and would keep some kind of restraint on their mentally disturbed monarch. Blood was such a bugger of a thing for most cleaners to shift.

 **The Penthouse Suite, Excelsior Hotel, Gotham City. 9th July 1999. 10.00 a.m.**

Alice Black gazed at the tanned blonde spread out on the very expensive and very comfortable white, egyptian cotton sheets, fast asleep and snoring lightly. Those same sheets had been perfectly clean when they had arrived late last night but the two young women had rather quickly taken care of that situation. The bruises cuts and welts that littered the girl's previously almost perfect skin had leaked blood onto the white bed linen to mingle with other, less red but no less biological, stains already present making them a quite fetching shade of pink in places. Alice grinned at the clear evidence of their extreme and mutually aggressive love making.

She stroked each one of the bruises, bites, gouges and cuts and laid a kiss on them with a tenderness that anyone only who knew her public persona as the Queen would be extremely surprised by. Those who were more familiar with Alice would not have been quite so shocked. Although she was more than a touch psychopathic in terms of her fondness for mayhem and murder, when it came to her interractions with people that she liked, her family for example, her sociopathic tendancies were slightly less pronounced. Admittedly she would still use those people shamelessly and without thought but she would sometimes feel quite bad about it later and then attempt to make it up to them in a variety of ways that ranged from rather sweet to utterly insane. And she had certainly used Miss Harley Quinn last night. But then again she had her own welts and bruises marring her pale, delicate skin and indicating that the Gotham City native had done some pretty effective using of her own.

It wasn't often that she got to let loose like this in the bedroom. Ginny was not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, in fact she had proven herself to be a right little pervert in the sack who enjoyed three ways, four ways, discipline and even a bit of bondage, but she turned a blind eye to (and even encouraged) Alice's little indiscretions when she felt the need to get more freaky than the red head was comfortable with. Blood play was one of those little peccadilloes that she hardly ever got to indulge herself in so to find someone like Harley who not only allowed her to play but also participated with real skill and pleasure was just brilliant. The two maniacs had enthusiastically slapped, bitten, punched and even cut each other with the combat knife that Alice always carried secreted about her person in the throes of their alcohol fuelled passion. She chuckled at her deeply sleeping companion and at the sheer amount of bloody damage that they had caused each other. She was very sore and her head felt like a particularly grumpy dwarf had set up a busy forge in her brain.

Summoning her overnight bag from the comfy chair in the far corner of the penthouse Alice retrieved a few hangover potions and her wand from it's depths before banishing it back to it's former position with the barest of whispers so as not to disturb sleeping beauty by her side. Having downed a potion Alice started twirling her wand in her fingers lazilly while she waited for the cure to kick in and a very naughty and potentially very dangerous (for Harley) idea occured to her. Setting the well worn bulbous handle of the Death Stick to slowly vibrate she rolled over onto her elbows and touched it to a dark pink and inviting nipple, smiling broadly as it instantly leapt to attention. Awesome. The other mammary nub received the same treatment causing the girl beneath her to twitch and moan in her sleep, before Alice laid the elder wand flat in the valley between Harley's ample boobs and reset it so that it vibrated all along its length.

It took quite some considerable effort on her part to keep the threatening giggles under control enough not to wake the blonde lunatic from her sweet slumber and so end her fun prematurely. The vibrating wand set up the most delightful wobbling of that soft, succulent flesh and Alice barely restrained herself from burying her face into Harley's womanly mounds. Instead she slowly moved the juddering focus down the centre of her playmate's body, wondering at the jumping muscles of those oh so toned abdominals as it passed over her belly button and on down. Lower. Lower. Lower. To her final goal. To her ultimate prize. Fascinated, Alice watched as Harley's outer lips began to separate and the thin wood slipped into the slowly opening folds it's shaking movement now constricted and muted by the girl's body. She hadn't used the elder wand for this kind of delicate operation before and was interested to see if it made her blonde partner's nicely shaved pussy explode in either the dangerous way or the, only marginally more fun, sexual one.

It didn't take much of this treatment before Harley's bright blue eyes snapped open and she let a half giggle, half gasp of erotic pleasure. Those eyes travelled straight to the source of her fantastic wake up call and flicked around between the buzzing stick burying itelf in her nether regions and the smirking ruby lips and mesmerising mis-matched eyes of her insane new lover positioned above her. A girl could get used to this kind of thing she thought as she purred out her satisfaction. The purr which soon enough turned into an ear splitting scream as she bucked her way to an amazing climax while Alice held her down and pressed the elder wand hard into her incredibly sensitive body.

"Oooooh, I fuckin' _love_ magic." The floopy, floppy weirdo clung tightly to her giggling bed mate as she panted through her come down.

"Well you're going to just adore it when you see what I've got drying out back on the yacht. You can sew can't you?"

"Sew?" A confused Harley shrugged at the beautifically smiling witch. "Sure but what are we sewing?"

"Well I got some ... ummm ... _special_ material and the chap who donated it was pretty tall so we should have enough for a couple of nice outfits."

"We?" More confusion from the blonde.

"You didn't think I was going to leave _you_ out did you hunny bunny? Two words love. Matching. Outfits."

Wow. She didn't know quite what she had done to deserve finding a total fuckin' angel like this but Harley Quinn wasn't going to waste a single second of whatever time they had together.

"Al baby. Do you think that you could do that thing with your stick again? Cos that was fuckin' _awesome_."

Soon, Alice thought she really should gather her mental little crew of witches, thieves and lunatics together so that they could go over their plans for what to do with the information that she had ... _extracted_ from that nice, helpful Mister Dent but that could wait for a while longer. Right now she had a certain blonde fluffle bunny demanding that she be attended to. Never being one to leave a lady in distress the Mad Black Queen of Wizarding Britain decided that her subjects were going to have to wait for a few hours more while she took care of some pressing personal business with her new 'mistress of the Royal wardobe'.

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 **Reviews are like cuddles. You can never have enough of them.**

 **Good? Bad? Leave your thoughts although you can always PM me with ideas, suggestions, comments if you want. Dylan the Rabbit. xx**


	5. Chapter 5

**Apologies to everyone who was enjoying this story, but this is not an update.**

 **Well not really anyway.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**

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 **.**

 **So it is with a heavy heart that I have to announce that this fic is going to be going to be put on permanent hiatus.**

 **Every time that I have sat down to write this fic I find that I get distracted and the inspiration just won't come to me. This is not a coincdence. My writing and indeed my life has moved on and Alice is heading down a path that I am no longer comfortable continuing with.**

 **Alice was my first ever character in my first ever story and, while I will always love her, I think that the time has come for me to let her go.**

 **So. Alicia Morgana Black and her own peculiar brand of lunacy is up for adoption.**

 **If you want to have a go yourself or want to suggest it to a third party please feel free to do so. My fervent wish is that someone (perhaps a first time writer) will take her on and continue her adventures either within the framework of this story or in something entirely new.**

 **You do not need to ask permission to do so, I grant it willingly, but I would like to know when and if you do, so that I can follow her journey through the fresh perspective of another.**

 **.**

 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice will remain on my page but marked as on 'permanent hiatus' and a link to any new story will be provided.**

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 **I will, of course, ALWAYS be availlable through my PM to provide any and all encouragement and assistance that is needed.**

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 **What little I had for the fourth chapter is below should you need it.**

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 **Alice and the Human Sacrifice.**

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 **Chapter 4. There Ain't no Party (Like an Alice Party).**

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 **C.E.O's Penthouse, Wayne Tower, Gotham City. 11th July 1999. 7.30 p.m.**

.

The group of three of the most powerful men in Gotham stood off to one side of the buffet table, drinks in hands, and looked out across the hardwood floor of the penthouse's spacious reception room. Each of them was playing a role tonight in order to conform to the entirely false expectations of the gathered glitterati and other guests. Well most of the guests anyway. It all seemed a bit pointless with their guest of honour as, on being introduced she had winked at him and said.

"wotcha batty man."

Less than regal. Less than subtle. Totally Alice.

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 **And I just can't get past this, no matter how hard I try.**

 **The best of luck to any of you brave or foolhardy enough to take this on.**

 **Dylan the Rabbit. xx**


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